Things Rarely Last
by igotthemoveslikegravity
Summary: John Watson has made a large impression on Sherlock Holmes and he is fighting to keep his emotions down, as well as his penis. Teenlock adaption.
1. Intro: Holmes and Watson

"Uh… Hi. I'm John Watson." John said standing awkwardly at the door to dorm 152.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock took a deep breath. He looked over John's pale, muscular features. This was going to be a hard year. "I don't expect you to follow my guidelines, which are on the desk, but at the very least, keep your football things," He grimaced, "or stupid papers on your side of the room."

"Oh, I don't play football. I'm a swimmer. Just googles and swim trunks for me. Ha ha." John smiled nervously and crossed over to his bed.

Sherlock was lying on his bed, John and the rest of the world oblivious to him. John, seeing that it was pointless to interact with Sherlock, started to pack his things away. His case had to be put on the floor before being unzipped, something John forgot to do and most his things fell out. Sherlock woke from his deep sleep to and saw John fumbling over all his things. Mostly books, as he observed.

"Here, let me help. I can't concentrate if you're making all that noise." Sherlock got off his bed and started to pick up the thins that had crossed the masking tape line he had going straight threw the room.

"I'm sorry Sherlock. I'm really clumsy when I'm nervous. My dad says tha-"

"Forgetful."

"What?"

Sherlock handed John three book and a pair of pants. "These are yours," John blushed. "And you mean forgetful, not clumsy. Clumsy would have implied you knocked over the case."

"Right, yah." John stated to put his books beside his bed. "You were at this school last year, right?"

"How'd you guess?" Sherlock replied surprised.

"You just look more situated than someone knew would. Even if you were pretending." John blushed a bit and went back to unpacking.

A awkward silence passed between them, hurriedly interrupted by a kid running by their room.

"Mark Sheptard blew up the lab! Mark Sheptard blew up the lab!"

"Wonder what that was about." John said excitedly.

"Seems like Sheptard blew up the lab." Sherlock smirked to himself.

"Right. Thanks. Wanna check it out?" John jumped from his spot on the floor and headed to the door.

Sherlock looked at John. _This boy is friendly. _He thought. _Abort, Sherlock, Abort! _Sherlock nodded and got up to follow John.

Sherlock led John to the lab, silently cursing himself for falling for John's charm. He knew it was going to bite him in the arse.

"School hasn't even started yet, Markus, and you've already destroyed something." A distressed teacher rolled his hand threw his messy hair. "Just go clean yourself off and meet me in my office. I'm sure you know the way."

The entire lab seemed to be covered in strawberry scented green bubbles.

"Does something like this every year." Sherlock remarked. "Last year he was trying to make pear scented hard candy from lemon candies and they just got so slippery that they shot from your mouth every time you tried to eat them."

"Cool." John marvelled.

Sherlock almost forgot that John was there and took a second to look at him suspiciously. Almost like John had just snuck up on him. "Want to check out the Library? I noticed you had some good books and I may have a few more to recommend." Sherlock mentally punched himself.

"Sure! I'd love to!" John made a after-you motion and Sherlock walked on ahead, leaving John to follow.


	2. Chapter 1: Two Friends

The Christmas trees have been up for week now, candy canes have been tongue-sculpted into weapons worthy of murder and hormones are high (as always) at Tavyard School. When John came to Tavyard he never expect to befriend-much less fall in love with-someone of Sherlock Holmes's calibre. But here he was, following Sherlock around like a puppy, waiting on him hand and foot.

"John, are you going home for Christmas break?" Sherlock took a break from his book.

"Don't know." John was at the desk in between the two beds he and Sherlock slept in. "My dad is currently living in America. Seattle to be exact. My mum will be over at my aunts and my sister is going threw some stuff with her girlfriend, so probably not."

"Mmmh." Sherlock drifted off.

"What about you? You going to your house?" He asked.

"I thought I'd stay here. My mum died when I was eight and my brother and dad will be working in China. Preventing a economical crash or something." Sherlock replied unenthusiastically.

"Oh. That's… um… wow."

Sherlock grinned to himself. It was always fun seeing John impressed.

"Wonder how many other kids will be staying here." John started back on his homework.

"Do you date?" Sherlock set his book down, not bothering to mark his spot.

"What? Oh!" John was stumbling for words.

"I'm curious because since school started there have been plenty of girls asking you out and seemingly falling at your feet, but you haven't shown an interest in any of them." Sherlock added casually.

"Um…" John still seemed at loss for words.

"If you're gay or what ever it's fine. I've got no problems." Sherlock started to look uncomfortable.

"I know! Well I didn't know that you felt that way-I mean about gays! Though if you are, it's fine! Well 'course it is. I'm sorry." John spouted out.

"I'm a pansexual, John." Sherlock picked up his book and started to read again.

John stared paralysed out the window. For a good twenty minutes he didn't get up, and when he did he got into bed and didn't get up until morning.

John started walking to his first class of the day, History. He shared it with Sherlock and the teacher paired up partners based on where their dorms are. It was the 8:00 am classes only for dorm kids. About half way there he bumped into Georgia Smith, a kid who went to school there but didn't live there as well, but she was always there before most, so she might as well have.

"John, I heard you get along with that Holmes kid. Nobody likes him, I hope you're aware." Georgia remarked, a cruel smirk on her face.

"Your opinions are noted Georgia, thank you. Now which breakfast cereal do you think I should have because you seem to dictate what happens to me?" John replicated her smirk with even more affectedness.

"I'm just saying you should watch out. He's seared everyone off. Last year he had a room mate that had to break his own arm to get away from Holmes." She followed John to the door of his class, though she didn't share it.

"That makes no sense." He replied.

"I'm just say'n." She walked towards the cafeteria.

John walked into the class. He was nearly six minutes late.

"Glad you could join us Mr. Watson. Care to take a seat next to Holmes over there? Or are we messing up your sleeping schedule?" The teacher remarked.

"Sorry sir." John made his way to the right back corner of the class and sat next to Sherlock.

"I hate history." Sherlock moaned to John. "I mean how is this supposed to help us once we try to get jobs."

"Yah," John smiled. "Why don't they teach us something useful, like how to do taxes."

"Exactly. It's not like if half these kids need to know how many Romans invaded Engalnd when they apply for their job at McDonalds!" Sherlock started to giggle into his hands.

"MR HOLMES!" The teacher bellowed from the from of the class room. "Can we get back to the lesson?"

Just as he started to continue the lesson the bell rang, signalling breakfast for the dorm kids.

"Lucky day." He muttered. "See you all tomorrow."

Sherlock waited right outside the room for John so they could walk to their dorm together.

"I never answered your question yesterday." John said lightly.

"Yes. You went kind of rigid." Sherlock looked down at his red high tops. "I thought maybe…"

"I was scared off by you?" John turned his head and smiled at Sherlock. "How could that ever happen?"

"About the question, yes. I do date." John looked embarrassedly at the ground.

"Good." Sherlock took a deep breath. "That's good."


	3. Chapter 2: John's Suit

It was 6:00 am on a Saturday. The morning sun was leaking threw the small window above the desk and gently landing on Jon's face. Sherlock hadn't slept all night. In just a few hours he was going to get to see John in barely anything, swimming. He knew he shouldn't go, but John had insisted. The idea of seeing so much more than he ever had of John was fantasy. Just a tiny little speedo. In a cold swimming pool. Sherlock couldn't even remember all the fantasies he had… _exercised. _

"Morning John." Sherlock said, seeing John had woken up.

"Morning Sher-" John started to yawn. "Sherlock. Have you taken a shower yet?"

"No. But you can go ahead. I put some towels in." Sherlock set down the book he was reading, _The Ethics of Forensics, _and picked up a new book, _He's Lying: A Book on How To Read Body Language. _

"Great. Thanks." John headed into the bathroom.

A second after John closed the door Sherlock jumped up and went over to John's side of the room.

"There's got to be something." He muttered to himself.

He heard the shower start and he started to lift up John's mattress. There was nothing underneath.

"Shit." He whispered. Sherlock paused for a second. "The desk!"

He ran over to it and opened the three drawers closest to John's bed. He pulled out a string of six condoms and a unused bottle of lube.

"Bingo." He smiled. Proof he could score with John Watson.

The shower stopped. He rushed back around the room cleaning it up as he went and landed back on his bed, book in hand as John emerged. In just a towel.

He stole a glance at Sherlock as he went over to his closet to get his clothes. Sherlock showed no evidence of ever looking John's way, though his slowly growing erection might disagree. John diapered back into the steamy bathroom and Sherlock exhaled.

* * *

It was 9:00 am and Sherlock and about twenty parents and kids were sitting on the side of the Tavyard School's 8ft deep swimming pool. The home team wasn't yet out, but the opposing team, about fifteen six foot tall guys were chuckling about something pointless.

"Everyone, to your marks!" The coach said after leading the swim team out from the locker rooms.

Sherlock couldn't help but gasp, John was amazing. Or rather his apparent lack of clothing.

"Your boyfriend is on the team, eh?" A elderly lady next to Sherlock said with a chuckle.

Sherlock scowled at her and shifted his gaze back to John. John, unlike the rest of the boys, didn't put on a swim cap. When he lined up at the edge of the pool, ready to race to the other end, he was standing with one leg elevated a tiny bit higher than his other, causing his cock to bulge, something Sherlock couldn't have missed if he were straight.

"On your marks!" The coach readied his pistol. "Set; Go!"

The Tavyard Swimming team took off, at least half a foot ahead of the posing team. It only took a little time, but Tavyard won. Sherlock saw John getting out of the pool. He saw a very wet, clingy swim suit lightly scraping on the side of the pool as John got out and the holder of the prize running past Sherlock and towards the lockers, with several angry complaints from both coaches about running by the pool. He just smiled and went faster.

Sherlock couldn't handle this anymore. He couldn't handle the ever growing pain eradicating from his crotch and he couldn't stand the old lady next to him chuckling every few seconds, so he got up, making sure to pass the old lady with his crotch forward to annoy her, and quickly retreated to his room.

John looked around, but his friend was no where. He thought that Sherlock would have at least stayed until John was finished. He started to think over all the reasons why Sherlock had left, the real one never crossing his mind.

"Ready Watson?" One of his team mates asked.

"Shut up fag."

* * *

_"I never told you. I'm gay." _John whispered to Sherlock in the darkened swimming pool.

_"I know." _Sherlock said._ "I wanted to see how long it took you to spill."_

Sherlock's lips were only a few centimetres from John's, their heavy breathing seeming to be the only sound in the entire pool.

"_Kiss me." _John breathed.

Sherlock pressed his lips roughly against John's, Sherlock put on hand behind John's head, running it through his hair, and the other under John's shirt, massaging his muscles.

_"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." _Sherlock said, grinning.

_"Well you can have it." _John pushed Sherlock down onto his back, and started to take off his own clothes. Sherlock mirrored him, the two naked in front of each other in a matter of seconds. John started to kiss down Sherlock's pale stomach.

"John!" Sherlock came. His hand and stomach were coated in his own come, his sheets were saved. "Jesus. I need to stop this."

He got up and stripped his clothes, started the shower and locked the bathroom door.

"This has really got to stop." He muttered to himself.


End file.
